The Devil Hunter's Guide to the Con
by Eric Draven201
Summary: Who knew Dante was something of an otaku? Read along as everyone's favorite devil hunter convinces Vergil to join him at an anime convention. Rated for language and all around mischief.


If you haven't already guessed it, this particular story is inspired by _The Hitchhiker's Guide_ series, written by the British comedy genius that is Douglas Adams.

I have promised this one for while. This is totally meant for kicks and giggles... not to offend. If anyone falls into the categories mentioned, just laugh it off because these are mere the opinions and the things my friends and I experience whenever we go to an anime convention. :P

Disclaimer: I don't make money writing down the crap that pops into my head, so Capcom shouldn't be concerned either. On the other hand, this may turn out to be free advertisement for cons.

Whew! I think I covered all the bases here... so lets get on with the show!

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The Devil hunter's Guide to the Con

Chapter 1: Conned into the Con

"Wait, wait, wait... hold it," Dante stood up from his desk, placing his hands on hips with a glare of disbelief at his brother, "you've _never_ heard of a con before?"

"Other than the ones you run everyday, dear little brother, I have not." Vergil kept his eyes trained on the words in his book as he replied.

"First of all, I am not a con artist and secondly... s-secondly—" Dante's words petered out with his thoughts.

"Do I hear the sound of air escaping from your head," Vergil quipped as he glanced up from his novel.

"But seriously, sugar," Trish said as leaned onto Dante's desk, "you have no idea what we were talking about?"

The conversation had come about when Dante asked Trish if she had pre-registered yet. They both knew if the event was projected to be booked at maximum capacity, that it probably would and the only sure way of not being turned away at the door was to pay ahead of time.

"No," Vergil answered, attention back at his book.

"Where have you been man, living under a rock," Dante joked.

"Uh... no... Trapped in Hell," Vergil returned.

"Oh," was all Dante could muster upon realizing that he had put his foot in his mouth. He cast his eyes to the ground and then brightened his expression when an idea snapped into his head, "Then come with us and see what it's all about."

"I don't know if—"

"Look, I'll even buy your pass for you. There's still time to 'pre-reg'. The thing isn't until next weekend."

"Sugar, you just might like it," Trish appealed to Vergil, "What do you have to lose?"

Dante then leaned over to his brother and whispered, "Trish is going to be working the maid café. Com'on dude, wouldn't she make such a hot maid?"

"Don't call me dude," Vergil nearly snapped, forming a spiritual sword with the very intention of maiming his twin. He had warned Dante about that word on many occasions. He then followed his previous statement with a question, "What exactly does a 'con' mean?" The sword fizzled out of existence as he asked it.

"Well—"

Dante was then cut off by the disembodied voice of the narrator, _Con, a noun, a diminutive form of the word conference or convention. See examples for Comic-con, Otakon, or Katsucon._

Vergil looked to his left and then to his right before asking, "Did I just hear—?"

"Yeah," Dante said moving towards the stairs, "It happens sometimes... just go with it."

"Where are you going," Trish questioned.

"Are kidding me, woman? We've got _tons_ of packing to do," Dante answered as he bounded up the stairs.

"Packing," Vergil cocked an eyebrow as he questioned, "Am I wrong in assuming that this is merely a day trip? Are we to stay there the entire weekend?"

"Well, it is a hotel con, hon."

"Which one is it?"

"GODDAMNIT," they paused upon hearing Dante cursing from upstairs, but continued when it died down.

"I think it's the Downtown Hyatt."

"The Hyatt," Vergil's eyebrows quirked once more.

"They do have some great amenities, not that you—"

"No, I just—uh—want to know why he would got through the trouble of getting a hotel room when this—" Vergil searched for the word.

"Convention," Trish completed.

"When this convention will take place only a few miles from here. It seems like he's needlessly wasting money."

"FUCKIN' A THAT HURT," Dante once again hollered.

"Don't let him hear you say that. Dante is the type of person who will stay there for the atmosphere and convenience without considering its expense."

"Surely Lady or even you disapprove of such frivolousness."

"Trish where's that big-ass trunk from last year," Dante called downstairs.

"Did you check the attic," she called back.

"Oh, right! Thanks," he shouted back. Trish turned and apologized to Vergil before continuing the conversation where they left off.

"I did… at first, until he introduced me to these events. My first Con was actually a few months after Mallet Island," The blond smiled as she replied. "As for Lady, she isn't into the events and parties. She mainly goes to browse the dealer's rooms and the artist alley. Show her a Sanrio stall and she's set for the entire weekend. We rarely ever see her, but she always manages to bring home tons of memorabilia."

She watched his expression switch from perplexed to unreadable before he decided to stick his face into his book. At first, Trish parted her lips to explain, before he could ask who or what Sanrio was, but she decided against it. There were some things one had to learn from experience.

"Look, by the time the weekend's over, most of your questions will be answered," the blonde winked, "If you'll excuse me, it sounds like Dante needs help." With that, Trish sauntered up the stairs, leaving Vergil to ponder over what he had gotten himself into.

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Now what exactly does Dante have planned for Vergil?

Reviews will do nicely.


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